


Cracks

by Unoriginal_Username



Category: Escape the Night (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, I apparently put all the others in the character tag and i don't feel like changing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 20:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16647176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Unoriginal_Username/pseuds/Unoriginal_Username
Summary: Sometimes things just worm into your mind.





	Cracks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ETNMystic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ETNMystic/gifts), [Bird_Of_Scarlet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bird_Of_Scarlet/gifts).



It’s a normal night, or as normal as it gets.

 

Alina’s her name, an average-sized girl with a rat’s nest of long blonde hair, rose-coloured glasses, and a dark navy hoodie sitting cross-legged at her laptop, looking on in confusion at all of the strange stories popping up around AO3. People hearing voices in their heads. People publishing stories with no recollection of the events within them. At first she thought it was some fandom-wide joke. Now she’s not so sure. Monsters. Everlock. Possession.

She’s trying to piece them all together. She’s trying to make sense of everything that’s happening. 

A part of her wants to ignore it, and go back to writing out a poem or finishing a chapter of her story. It seems less dangerous than… whatever is happening in the fandom. But she sees Birdy’s name popping up everywhere. Birdy’s her friend and her inspiration, and she loves and respects all of the other authors who are being mentioned in these strange stories, whether she knows them or not. She runs a hand through her hair, trying to make sense of this convoluted map of stories that seem to be flooding the entire page. It’s 3AM. She should be getting some sleep. But nevertheless, she continues to type, click, and scroll. Panic starts to creep up her spine as she reads Willow’s documentation. Who is Porcelain? What is happening?

 

She scrolls down to the first part of her story.

 

_ No one in the fandom is safe. _

 

It takes her a second to realize that  _ wait holy heck I’m in the fandom. _

 

She checks that her doors are locked. Her hands are shivering. And she tries to reassure herself.

 

_ I only have one story. And a poem. Nobody knows me, so no one is going to come for me. I’m a miniscule speck in the fandom-author-verse. It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. _

 

She grabs an owl plushy she got for her birthday and squeezes it tight. Despite wearing a soft hoodie, the room feels deady cold.

 

And then there’s a jolt in her spine, like a static shock. She jumps.

 

**_So scared._ **

 

She looks around fearfully. No one else is in the room. The voice she heard… this was a story freakishly similar to the ones hse had been reading mere minutes ago. She knows not to say her thoughts aloud, not just because she read it in a story but because her parents are a few doors down.

 

**_Shivering like a leaf._ **

 

_ Were you the one who took my friend? All those people… Leah, Willow, Cinder, Birdy….  _

 

**_Yes, I am a matter of great discussion here, aren’t I? But who cares about me, really? I wish to focus on you during the time we now have._ **

 

_ There’s nothing to know. _

 

**_Oh, I think there is. You’re so very intriguing… another who explores the line between death and life, the void in between… Who dares to hope for a glimmer of happiness in a time and a world where there is none to be seen._ **

 

_ That’s not true… Ro, Matt… wait, another? Birdy? _

 

Her eyes flash to the Quotev tab open. It’s been silent for days.

 

**_Friends separated and killed, am I not mistaken? You blind yourself._ **

 

_ I do  _ not _.  _ She tries to put on her brave face.

 

**_And you wish to make a pair so clearly enemies into a pair who loves each other. How oddly invigorating… A couple born from the flames of hell and hate._ **

 

_ I haven’t even published that yet, how do you- _

 

Her unfinished one-shot bursts to life on the screen before her, and pain flashes through her head. She lets out a strangled sort of scream.

 

**_I know things far beyond your imagination._ **

 

_ What do you want with me? I’m just a small author, nothing special or important! Please, just get out of my head! _

 

She’s seen the stories. Hers cannot end like this.

 

**_I can see exactly what haunts you, everytime you publish a chapter. Questions, floating aimlessly through a sea of blanks and fear. You worry of people’s judgement, of their hate, worry that your work is repetitive and dull, that no one will notice you and you will fade away, and no one will remember what once was._ **

 

Her heart aches. She wants to deny it. It’s like being stabbed with a rusty knife, being told exactly how you feel. Because it’s true, what he says. Every time she looks at her number of kudos, she compares it to the other stories she saw that day which had far more. Every time she forgets to publish, she worries that no one will even remember.

**_The name you chose is so intriguing… Unoriginal Username. Is that because your story is a spinoff, a weak link to its sequel? That your poem is only one of many, and the least significant of all? Because all you do is copy and cheat and steal from others who have brought the ideas to life, and you make weaker incarnations, with none of the charm, none of the spark that made it special, that’s it… And  no one will care of your sloppy creations made out of a chunk of the first concept. No one will wish to sit through a story which they’ve already read. You will never be seen as anything more than a pathetic knockoff. No one cares for you or your creations. You’re a dirt speck on a map of masterpieces._ **

 

_ Shut up. _

 

She starts to sob, hugging her plush to her chest, wishing the pounding in her head would go away, wishing she had just watched a YouTube video, wishing this voice would go away. She struggled not to give in, not to give up on everything she loved. She had to fight, had to get him away.

 

But she’d never been a fighter. And his voice oozes through the cracks in her brain until she’s reduced to a whimpering mess. She read the stories of people who’s been strong, strong enough to fight the voice. But he’d rattled off every little insecurity she’d felt ever since starting The Beginnings of the Ended. 

 

**_Shame you're not so much of a fighter. But I can see that’s what you want, isn’t it? To prove you’re worth something more. And you have blossoms, child… blossoms of ideas that float inside your mind like lanterns. Some much potential… I think you’ll do well._ **

 

_ What? _

 

**_I’m planning a game. And you’ll be a nice addition to the set._ **

 

Hearing that sets off a jolt of bravery she didn’t even know she had.

 

_ No. GET OUT of my head, let go of Birdy and all of the other who-the-hell-knows how many people you’ve caught up in your little mind game, and leave us ALONE! _

 

**_I told you you had potential, darling. You can be much more than you are… such a perfect pawn._ **

 

**_However, there are certain precautions. And now I’m afraid it’s time to say goodnight. But don’t worry. I’ll be coming for you again in just a heartbeat._ **

 

A jolt in her head and she sits upright on the bed. Her laptop is open. There’s a page with writing that she didn’t know she’d even done open in front of her. Her mind feels foggy.

 

And she’s getting so tired.

 

With her last brush of consciousness, she clicks the upload button and passes out.

  
  
  


 

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Something feels very wrong...


End file.
